


Happenstance

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), E.R.
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can a new man in Elizabeth's life change the way she thinks more than ten years in the ER ever could?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hologram

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place around two and a half years after the death of Mark Greene in terms of Elizabeth's life. For the Doctor and River, the adventures take place shortly after The Angels Take Manhattan, when River has agreed to become a full-time companion.

 

 

 

_**Elizabeth ** _

_**** _

* * *

"How did the surgery go?" Robert asked, entering the room via the opposite door and walking over to his locker.

Elizabeth turned to him, shaking her head with a sigh. "Same as usual," she said, "everything went well. There were a few complications, but nothing I couldn't handle." Ever since Mark's departure, Romano had provided a well-needed source of alliance in the ER and an unlikely form of friendly derision.

Romano scoffed, hanging up his scrubs and closing the door with the ringing of metal against metal. "See you tomorrow then, Lizzie." He held up the flat of his palm as he edged closer to the door.

"Yes," she smiled, "tomorrow."

A half minute later, Elizabeth too pressed the tips of her fingers to the edge of the locker door and let out a staggered deep breath. There, tacked firmly against the blue paint, was photograph of Mark and Ella on their final trip together. Beside it was another photograph of her baby girl, this time with a head full of blonde hair and a dotted red and white dress swaying against her grazed knees. The castle behind her and the mouse ears pulled over her head gave away their holiday destination just a few months ago.

It had been a difficult holiday without Mark there to quell Ella's early morning tears, which she was now all too prone to. At five years old, Elizabeth expected she'd be sleeping through the nights long ago. Constant nightmares kept her awake, for the fairy she'd claimed used to sit at the bottom of her bed every night had now deserted her. On the trip to Disneyland, whilst showing Ella photographs of their trip to Hawaii, the little girl had pointed to Mark and whispered just one word. Fairy.

The ride home was quiet. The icy roads made sure Elizabeth watched her footing as her heels slipped over the translucent blanket. She sat in the back of the cab, phone in hand, reading through previous text messages and conversations. She still hadn't found it in herself to delete her final conversation with Mark from her SIM.

"Is this it, Miss Corday?" the driver asked, his eyes wandering to the rear view mirror.

Elizabeth looked up from the mobile and out of the window. "Yes, thank you." She lifted her handbag up and over her arm and opened the door. "Wait," she hesitated, "how did you know my name?"

"It's on the tag, Ma'am," the driver replied. He pointed towards her chest and raised her eyebrows.

"Right," she smiled, looking down. "It's _Mrs_ Corday." She stepped out of the car and closed the door behind her before he had chance to reply.

The babysitter was sat with Ella on the carpet in the front room of the house. They were watching television together as she walked in - Ella's fascination with cartoon shows had developed just as any other child's did.

The young woman smiled as she stepped onto the carpet. She was barely an adult herself, her porcelain skin and straight white teeth a reminder of her youth. "Hi," she said, "everything's been fine today."

Elizabeth returned the greeting and lowered herself to the floor, crossing her legs as she reached it. "Hello, Ella," she whispered. She held out her arms as the little girl rushed over to her.

"Mommy," she called. She had her mother's hair and her father eyes: brown with flecks of black and gold.

"Have you missed mommy?" Elizabeth asked, stroking her hair.

Ella nodded and giggled before allowing her bare feet to carry her back over to the television.

Elizabeth saw the babysitter out of the door before it was time to make sure Ella was fed and bathed. She made her way upstairs and allowed herself to change into her pyjamas after a long day, checking Ella's intentions were fixed firmly upon the television to provide herself with the reassurance she needed to leave her little one alone.

She perched herself upon the edge of the bed she and her husband had once shared and undid the buttons on her shirt. Once changed, she tiptoed over to her wardrobe and pressed on her slippers and nightgown , taking time to look out of the window as she fastened both ends of the belt together.

She remembered everything. The days they'd spent outside in the conservatory, overlooking the rich green grass in the back garden. All of the times they'd walked out of the front gate with Ella in her arms, her fingers laced between Mark's as they walked. The evening's they'd spent outside drinking tea and talking about the future. The last time they'd walked out of the front door together.

Now it was all gone.

She looked towards the top of the street, where the row of houses came to an end and the traffic rushed on by. The rain had begun to pour, frosting the ice with a shine of liquid. A car pulled into the driveway of a house over the other side of the road, letting a handful of excited looking children out of its doors and a tired looking mother. When the children had run inside and the door had closed behind them, all that remained was a line of wilting greenery and a bare cobblestone pathway.

That was when the saw it.

A blue box appeared out of nowhere, the air around it a hazy mix of grey and blue until it fully materialised. It stood there, silent and unnoticed, as if intentionally placed. The flashing blue light on top ceased to glow with the blink of an eye. Somebody was inside. The door unlatched, falling ajar with a slight gust of wind. There were a few seconds of inactivity before a tall, oddly dressed man stepped out, raising both arms up in the air and mouthing a sentence Elizabeth failed to hear through the steamed up panes of glass.

She closed the curtain and rushed downstairs. Ella was sat in the same position she had been ten minutes earlier, but the cartoon show had faded to nothing more than white noise.

The doorbell chimed.


	2. Ascension

 

_**** Elizabeth ** ** _

_****** ** _

* * *

"Hello!" A young, rhetoric voice sprung from behind the glass.

Elizabeth's hands were trembling as she held on to the handle with all of her strength, ready to bolt the latch at the first sign of trouble. She took a breath in and pushed up her hair before allowing the door to fall further ajar.

He was impossibly tall, the red bow tie attached around his neck in conflict with his well-defined features and large hands. His tweed jacket was pulled in various places along the arms and there were dark patches on the elbows where the fabric had been pressed too far in.

"Mind if we have a chat?" His voice carried an obscure level of optimism and the faint vulnerability of a child. "Won't take long, I promise."

Elizabeth furrowed her brows and turned her head to the side before allowing their eyes to contact. "Who are you?" she muttered, "what do you need? You're not trying to sell me car insurance or any form of new electricity plan, are you?"

The young man snickered and pressed the corners of his lips together. "Who do you think I am, a dodgy sales person? Does the bow tie make me look like one? No, no," he whispered to himself, "sales people don't wear bow ties. Bow ties are cool." He nodded his head as if in complete admiration of himself. "Anyway, yes, the chat. I think it'd be best if we sat down accompanied by some tea and biscuits first - might make what I'm going to tell you a little easier." He lifted his chin as he finished. "Mind if I come in?"

Elizabeth waved him inside reluctantly, careful to avoid the front room where Ella still sat in front of a non-existent television show. She brought him through to the kitchen and reached into a cabinet above the oven, bringing out a packet of biscuits with her and flicking the switch on the kettle.

"Interesting, yes," he remarked, stopping to admire the microwave sat beside a vase on flowers on the worktop.

Elizabeth's look of utter confusion allowed him to elaborate.

"Never seen one of these," he said, "never even heard of them. The microwave. Ah, you humans are becoming much more clever than I ever thought you would. You're catching up," he winked.

"Sorry, what?" Elizabeth asked. She brought over two steaming cups of tea and sat down at the table. "What do you mean we're _catching up_?"

"Might as well get it over with." He pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket and pointed it towards the ceiling. It let out a low hum as the end glowed green. "I'm not human." He scrunched up his nose. "I'm a thousand year old time lord with the seemingly ludicrous ability to travel through all of time and space in one little blue box. But that little blue box wasn't supposed to stop here - oh no - I was supposed to be eating lunch in eighteenth century Paris this evening with an old friend of mind - a Sontaran, lovely man - but the TARDIS decided that this was my spot. Again."

"What do you mean _again_?" Lizzie's initial curiosity had now turned to frustration and uncertainty.

"You mean you haven't seen me before? Oh, I _am_ subtle." He straightened up his bow tie and nodded his head, smiling. "Impressive though. Definitely impressive. Great hair, great dress sense, great jaw line too if you hadn't already noticed."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. "I'm married."

"Me too!" He held his hand up to hi-five her, only to bring it back down to his waist again when his gesture was met with no approval. "I'm the Doctor, by the way."

"Doctor what?"

"Just the Doctor. I think it's a pretty good name, don't you, Doctor Corday?" He paused for a moment as Elizabeth widened her eyes. "It's on the tag. Anyway," he said, hopping off of the chair and allowing both feet to rest on the kitchen tiles, "I need to investigate something." He moved around the kitchen, pointing the screwdriver at each corner and shaking his head.

"What?" Elizabeth asked.

"Something's not right. There's something in this house that shouldn't be in here. Something dark, something powerful, something that could drain you of all the energy you have and suck the life right from you."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped slowly, parting her chapped lips and allowing heavy breaths to escape from her mouth. "There's nothing here," she said adamantly, stressing each syllable with certainty.

The Doctor held up his hands. "Hey, there's no need to be afraid. There's nothing here that I can't take care of, I promise. Love a good challenge. Especially one that even the TARDIS won't let me leave without attempting."

"The TARDIS?" Lizzie asked.

"Yes, the TARDIS. Time and Relative Dimension in Space. Doesn't always do what I want her to do, though. And she definitely doesn't plan on taking me anywhere else in time unless I fix this little problem for you." All the while that he spoke, he moved to various appliances around the kitchen, opening up cabinets and pointing the screwdriver inside before moving onto the next. "Whatever it is," he said, "it's hiding itself very well. Very well indeed."

"What is? What's hiding in my house? There's nothing here, I've told you."

"I have no idea." He tossed the screwdriver into the air and caught it with his right hand. "But whatever it is, I'll find it. Nothing gets past the Doctor." He continued to move around the room until he reached the door leading out into the corridor. "Mind if I go upstairs?" He pointed towards them with a swift eyebrow movement.

Elizabeth shook her head and held it in her hands, biting her lower lip. "Whatever," she held up her arms, "but I'm coming with you. This is my house and I have every right to know why you're here and what you're doing knocking on my front door at seven o'clock at night with nothing but a blue box and a light-up screwdriver." She raised her voice as the pair climbed the stairs.

After twenty minutes searching through cardboard boxes in the loft, the Doctor sighed and put down the screwdriver. "It can't seem to detect anything." He shook his head, bringing his palm to his chin and allowing his fingers to stroke it as he maintained a thoughtful disposition.

Elizabeth averted her gaze as he did so, breaking their eye contact.

"What?" he asked, raising his palms in the same way he had done as he stepped out of the blue box just over a half hour ago. "I'm trying to think. Now, keep still, don't speak. Not a word." The two stood in silence for what seemed much longer than a minute, but counted only sixty seconds on the ticking clock above them. "They're here," he whispered, "right here in this very room." He moved the screwdriver about again and clapped his hands together. "Right," he said, "going to have a phone a friend, hope you don't mind. She's a great woman - clever, nice hair, has her own gun - and I'm pretty sure she can help us out here. Plus, we haven't met up for a bit and I think now's about time, I fancy hearing what Cleopatra's been up to since our last trip. Just a minute."

"Wait." Elizabeth pulled back his arm as he attempted to bolt out of the door. "Who is this woman?"

"My wife," the Doctor smirked.

"Your wife has her own gun?" Elizabeth's question was almost rhetoric, the pitch of her voice a give away, but the Doctor answered anyway.

"Not usually one for guns," he admitted,  "but I like this one. Adds to her... Appeal." His cheeks flushed a dark shade of pink.

"She hasn't shot anybody though, I presume?" Elizabeth's expression was now much more solemn.

"No. Well - yes. Yes, she did shoot somebody."

"But she hasn't spent any time in prison, right? You didn't marry a criminal, did you?" Lizzie demanded.

"Oh, yes. She spent a little time there. Nothing serious, of course..." He played with his fingers, pressing them hard against his thumb.

"What did she do?"

"She killed a man." The Doctor released his arm from Elizabeth's grasp. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to make a quick call."

"How? Where from?"

"The TARDIS of course!" His voice faded with each step he took down onto the lower floor. "Back in five minutes," he said, "don't go anywhere." He stumbled out of the front door, half-tripping over the concrete step as he darted outside and back into the telephone box, which the neighbours had scarcely seemed to notice.

Elizabeth took the opportunity to check on Ella in the front room. The little girl sat playing with toy dolls on the floor, addressing each by name and entering them one by one into an imaginary talent competition she'd happily devised throughout her mother's absence. She look towards Elizabeth as she entered, her lips tangent to her softly angled face. "Hungry," she said, "I'm hungry."

"I know, sweetie. Mommy will cook you something to eat soon, okay?" She brushed her finger against Ella's nose and smiled.

"Sweetie?"

Elizabeth turned to find the Doctor stood in the door frame, gasping for breath.

"I told you I wouldn't take long," he said, "just a quick call." He looked down at the ground until his gaze reached Ella's own. "Hello," he cooed, walking over to her. "What's you name?"

Ella giggled, pulling at his bow tie and pointing. "He's funny," she said, turning to Elizabeth in laughter.

Elizabeth tried to subdue the growing smile tingling on her lips, but gave in to the desire and laughed herself. "Her name's Ella," she said in reply to the Doctor.

"Hello Ella," he whispered. "Love kids," he said, turning to Elizabeth, "always wanted to travel with one, never got chance to."

Elizabeth smiled.

"There she is." The Doctor's voice raised so high in pitch it sounded almost like a young boy's as he stood up. "That's my wife," he said, pointing out of the window to a curly-haired woman dressed in a tight ruby red dress that failed to conceal her protruding cleavage. She made her way over to the front door to find it was already open. Her heels echoed on the wooden floor as she walked up the hallway.

"Hello sweetie," she purred, walking into the front room. "What a shame you had to phone a friend again. I'm starting to think even you now believe that I know more than you do." She tipped herself back on her heels and put her hand against the Doctor's shoulder.

"Absolutely not," the Doctor replied with a wink. He stepped backwards until he stood between both her and Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth, this is Doctor Song."

Both women stretched out their arms and shook hands.

"I'm Doctor Corday. Elizabeth Corday."

"Pleased to meet you," River replied.

Lizzie bowed her head and smiled, turning to find Ella in awe of the group's presence.

"Wow - the hair!" The Doctor remarked, pointing to the top of both women's heads with either hand. River's hair was wild with curls, each one defying the laws and gravity and falling delicately into place. Elizabeth's curls, on the other hand, were far less manageable, overhanging at her forehead and much longer than Doctor Song's.

"You were always one for curls, sweetie," River winked. She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to one side.

"Well then, what's the problem, Doctor? I imagine requires a little more thought than you could manage, or else you wouldn't have called me away from my short break in Ancient Egypt." She raised her eyebrows at Elizabeth. "Everybody needs a break from a mad man like the Doctor every once in a while." She pulled back one side of the Doctor's tweed jacket and reached for the inside pocket. "Now," she said, holding the screwdriver in her hand with a smile, "shall we get started?"


	3. Lacrimosa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Purposely left on a cliff hanger again because cliff hangers are my thing alright

 

_** River**_

* * *

" _Really_ , sweetie?" River asked. She plucked the knot of his bow tie between her thumb and forefinger and pulled him closer. There was a hint of suggestiveness in her voice, a subtle seduction that shone all too bright. "I thought I told you red wasn’t your colour on our last trip?" She released her hand from the knot and run her fingers over his shirt. "But I do like this shirt," she continued, "very classy. I’d say 1980s, American, small designer in Manhattan?"

"1975," the Doctor said with a single shake of his head. "I told him it was too modern."

She laughed, continuing her search around the room with her gun held firmly against her chest.

"Put the gun down, River," he said, the whine in his voice plucking a smile against her lips. "You know I’ve never liked guns."

She turned away from the cardboard boxes and allowed their glances to meet in the mid-air. "Oh,  _stop it_ ," she whispered. She held the weapon closer, her free palm pressed against the opposing side. River knew all too well that it wasn’t the gun he was interested in. She pursed her full lips and allowed her hips to fall to one side, her attention now far away from the boxes.

Elizabeth frowned, the crow’s eyes at her lids creasing against her powdered skin. "Is this all you brought her here for, Doctor?" The word was sour on her tongue, a tang of uncertainty sharp against her vocal chords. "To provide you with some necessary entertainment? What are the two of you going to do next?" She stopped and shook her head. "Whatever it is, it’s not going to be in my house."

"Oh,  _honey_ ," River said, taking her by the arm, "don’t frown, it’ll give you wrinkles."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Looks like  _you’ve_  already got some." She pointed to the side of River’s face and begun to trace the faint line with the tip of her finger. "Does the Doctor make you frown? Does he? Because having an eight-year-old borderline psychotic husband would drive me to insanity too."

The Doctor rushed between the two, his open arms driving them back. "Now now, ladies," he called, "I don’t think now is quite the time." He turned to Elizabeth. "You are in danger, Doctor Corday. Grave danger."

"How do  _you_  know?" she demanded.

"Oh, I don’t. But my wife here probably does. River," he turned back and clicked his fingers, "have you got it all figured out?

River winked. "He likes it when I know the answers before he does. Sometimes, anyway. He thinks it adds to my," she paused and raised her eyebrows, facing Elizabeth, " _appeal_." Elizabeth scowled. River could sense the jealously radiating off of her, heating the room with a nervous tension. "Anyway," she said, "there’s something upstairs. They were brought in via these boxes and seem to have spread themselves around the house. You can feel their energy everywhere." She picked up the Doctor's sonic screwdriver from one of the crates and pressed her thumb against a button. "It can't sense anything because it's not programmed to down here. I know how these things work, Doctor. At least I hope I do." She walked over the door at the other side of the room and unlocked it. Through the frame was another set of stairs, this time bare and unused, the shadow of dust collecting over them lighting the way up to an unlit corridor. "May we have a look up in the attic?"

Elizabeth stuck her tongue in her cheek and pushed her fists into the air. "Be quick," she said, "but I can assure you you'll find nothing up there."

The trio hurried up the stairs and along the corridor until they found themselves in a box-like dark room, surrounded by cobwebs with the faint sound of pigeons cooing on the roof melodic against the rhythm of their footsteps.

"Is there a light in here?" River asked.

Elizabeth held her arms out in front of her and felt along the walls until the found the switch and pressed it down with a clasp. The room was illuminated by a glowing bare bulb that hung from the ceiling.

"Lovely." The Doctor clapped his hands and grinned. "Seems the ideal place for a few lonely monsters to hang out if they choose to stop by in Chicago." He pointed the screwdriver to the left until the buzzing sound grew louder. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "a signal!" He followed the sound of the device until the ringing was almost ear-piercing before releasing his thumb from the button. "And there it is," he smiled.

River hurried over to him, peering over his shoulder as she tried to get a glimpse of his facial expression. "What is? What have you found this time, Doctor?"

"I don't know," he said, "but I know that it's here, and I think I know why." His face remained fixed upon the blackened space directly adjacent to him.

"For a doctor, you don't seem to know much," Elizabeth scoffed. She put her hands on her hips and rolled up her sleeves. "If there's anything in here, it'll be a box of old clothes or toys that I never got round to throwing away. Other than that, this place it empty. I'm sure of it."

The Doctor walked slowly towards her and stopped just a few metres from where she stood. "Elizabeth," his voice was soft once more, "there's something you haven't told us."

Elizabeth's breaths slowed though she could feel the beating of her heart grow faster, the palpitations hard against her chest. "I don't have to tell you anything." Her tone was punitive and brutal. She could feel her hands shaking at her sides. "Get out of my house.  _Both of you_."

River joined the Doctor at his side. She held out her hand, pointing her red-painted fingernails towards Doctor Corday. "Take my hand," she whispered.

Elizabeth looked up. Slowly, overcoming the initial mental equivocation, she allowed their skin to touch.

River bowed her head. "You've known loss," she said.

"How do you know that?" Elizabeth asked. Her manner had lightened and her brows had fallen so far they brushed against her lashes. "How can you tell?"

"I know a lot of people, Elizabeth. When you travel with the Doctor, you meet so many wonderful people. And sometimes you don't stay long enough to find out as much about them as you'd have liked to. Sometimes you never get to ask what their life was like, or what they really want. Sometimes all you know is how they are right in that very moment. But the times you do find out - the times they confide in you and let their past spill out in front of your minds eye -  _you remember it_."

Elizabeth shook her head. "No," she said, "this isn't real. None of this is happening. You're not a time travelling married couple - people like that don't exist. Leave me alone." Her voice had faded to a whisper.

"I know another man who knows loss as well as you do. A man who thinks about all of the people he's lost every day of his many lives." She rested her arm on his shoulder. "And that man," she continued, "is the Doctor."

The Doctor forced a laugh out of shock. "River," he said, "you say it like I'm some kind of  _emotional human mess_.  _I'm_  an alien time lord with two hearts, let me remind you."

"Two hearts that have been broken," she whispered, "and you know it."

Elizabeth looked between the two as the silence grew.

"Crying doesn't indicate that you're weak. Since birth, crying has been a sign that you are alive." River reached inside of her pocket and pulled out her journal. "This," she said to Elizabeth, "contains all of my adventures with the Doctor. And what he never understood," she turned to him this time, "it that humans can sense heartbreak." She cupped his chin in the palm of her hand and lifted it. "Now you know, sweetie," she teased.

The Doctor smiled and lowered his head in the same way Elizabeth had. For the first time, River could appreciate the despondency on his face.

"So what are they? What do I do?" Elizabeth asked.

"They," the Doctor chimed, "are Detritus Lacrimosa." He looked around the group in search of impressed glances. ""I do a lot of reading in my spare time," he muttered, noticing both Elizabeth and River's vacant expressions. "They feed on unhappiness from any living being, not only humans. They're especially prone to feeding from people who have lost somebody. They give out the most energy."

"The Doctor had a nasty case in his TARDIS recently," River interrupted.

" _Yes_ , thank you River. That's why the TARDIS must have brought me here, to help you," he said to Elizabeth. "You see, these bat-like creatures aren't just going to go away. And the sonic screwdriver seems to pick up a large energy radiating from them, and seeing as they're pretty new lifeforms," he paused, shrugging his shoulders, "eh, we don't know what's going to happen. So it's best we get rid of them as soon as we can."

"And how are we going to do that?" Elizabeth asked. Her voice had changed once more. It wasn't as harsh as it had been, but the bitter sweet zest of ambivalence and disbelief altered its sound.

"Easy," the Doctor replied. "You're going to take a trip in the TARDIS. Anywhere you want, whatever you want to do, I promise. Any ideas?" His enthusiasm was lost on Elizabeth, who stood still with her arms folded.

"I can't," she said, "for all I know, the two of you could be luring me into that thing and I could end up on the news in ten years time as police reopen the investigation into my disappearance. Besides, I have a  _child_  to take care of."

"A child! Yes! I love them. You can bring her along too. River won't mind, will you?"

"Not at all, sweetie," River replied, "I'm sure the Doctor will bond well with somebody of an appropriate mental age."

Elizabeth pressed the tips of her fingers against her temples and closed her eyes shut. "No, none of this is happening," the muttered, "it's all inside you head, all of it.  _None of this is real_." She lifted her head back up in one sudden movement, her eyes fixed on River's own. "Why do we look so alike?" Her face was dark with realisation, every crease deep against her skin. A single tear rolled down her cheek and trickled over her cracked lips.

"I can regenerate," River replied, "and when I do so I can decide how I want to look. A little, anyway." She laughed. Her voice calmed Lizzie, the thick Southern British accent hard on her tongue. "Do you remember the girl you treated after she fell at her own aunt's wedding? She came with a red haired girl and ended up staying overnight in hospital with stitches?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes," she replied, "I do."

"Well," River continued, "that was me."

Elizabeth's jaw dropped.

"Never have been to another wedding since," River laughed.


	4. 1975

  
_** Elizabeth ** _   


* * *

"And you're sure this is safe?" Elizabeth asked, carrying a suitcase full of belongings in one arm and holding Ella's hand in the other.

"Oh yes," the Doctor said. He slid the sonic screwdriver back inside of his inner pocket and clicked his fingers as they reached the TARDIS doors. They opened momentarily, the slight sigh of parting wood marking their departure from one another. "Come on in," the Doctor invited, pointing inside of the little blue box and hurrying the group inside.

Elizabeth stood in awe of her surroundings. Ella said not a word, clutching onto her mother's hand and the arm of her pink stuffed toy.

"This," the Doctor said, "is the TARDIS. Time And Relative Dimension in Space. If you can't deduce what that means, you're probably not going to fare too well on our little trip.

Lizzie opened her mouth. The Doctor pressed a finger to her lips and continued on with his explanation.

"Yes, it is indeed bigger on the inside."

He took the words straight out of her mouth. She allowed her lips to pair together once more and looked down at Ella. "Are you okay, honey?" she asked. Ella shook her head, looking up at her mother. Elizabeth frowned. "See," she said, turning to the Doctor with a scowl, "you're scaring her. I knew none of this would be a good idea. What do you even do in here?" she asked, a slight mockery protruding towards the end of her question.

The Doctor and River exchanged impudent glances, laughing to themselves.

Elizabeth shook her head and bit her lip, her tongue in her cheek. She sighed. "It's not another inside joke, is it? I don't even want to know."

The Doctor scrunched his nose and nodded. "I think it's best if you don't." He hurried towards the middle of the room, towards the controls. "Right," he exclaimed, "anywhere in time and space: wherever you want, whatever the year and whatever the day. Except Sundays. Sundays are boring. I never land on Sundays."

"He doesn't live to be boring, the Doctor," River remarked, "that's why he married me." She winked at him as he blushed.

Ella dropped Elizabeth's hand, wandering in the same direction as the Doctor. She kept one finger in her mouth and allowed the others to trace over each of the buttons and levers whilst Elizabeth watched in fascination.

"She's not used to this," Elizabeth said. "She shouldn't be allowed to see any of it. This could... It could corrupt her." She walked briskly over to the centre of the control room and scooped her daughter up under the arms. "I want to go home," she said, "I don't think I'm ready for this."

The Doctor pulled at a brightly coloured red lever, resulting in a puff of greyed smoke and the sizzling echo of firework sparklers that haunted the city streets each November 5th. "Relax," he said, "everything's under control here. Nothing can go wrong, I promise."

"So long as I'm in charge of the TARDIS," River interjected, "then we might actually land where we intend to."

Elizabeth had been protective of Ella ever since the moment she was born. Whenever she'd left her in the care of a friend of family member, no matter how long for, she'd always been sure to call each half hour to ensure everything was running smoothly. She longed for the days out of the Emergency Room - for the days she'd enjoy with her little girl in the park or outside with stuffed animals and pretend picnics. Ever since she'd lost Mark, things had been even tougher. Not only did it mean there was one less person to support her, but it also left a trace of guilt that meant she couldn't comprehend losing another.

"No," she replied, "I don't care which of you is driving."

"Technically, it's flying," the Doctor added. "There aren't many roads through time and space."

Lizzie held her palms to the ceiling, the momentum of her frustration spiralling her gesture. "I don't _care_ about time and space. I'm a doctor and nothing more. I don't need this." She walked towards the same doors they'd entered through just moments ago before turning back around. "You're not even going to try to stop me leaving?" she asked, with no sense of relief or genuity in her tone. Her blood run high on fear and anger.

"I knew you wouldn't leave," the Doctor replied with a smile on his lips. "Do you know how many times my wife has threatened to leave me? The TARDIS is good at ensuring people think twice before stepping out of her doors. Don't you, honey?" She patted his hand against the controls and run his fingers over them as if the machine were a pet his mother had bought to keep him company.

River raised her eyebrows, nodding. "It's true," she explained, "the Doctor can get a little difficult to live with sometimes."

Elizabeth wasn't able to push back the grin that crept onto her lips as the two of them teased like school children. Ella, however, had begun to cry, her wails echoing around the room.

The Doctor hurried over. "What's up, Ella?" he asked. His voice was heightened in tone and bore resemblance to a pre-teen girl's. "Do you want to go on an adventure?"

The little girl looked up, her blonde hair hanging over her forehead, clinging to the the wet, red stains under her eyes. She giggled through her tears and nodded her head. "Yes," she whispered, "adventure."

"What do you say, Mum?" The Doctor asked, peering over Ella's shoulder to draw eye contact with Elizabeth. "I mean - what do you say, _Mom_?" he corrected himself, "sorry about the British accent."

Elizabeth sighed and rolled her eyes. "I don't _even_ know who you are. You haven't even told me your name."

"Oh course I have!" exclaimed the Doctor. "I'm the Doctor, pleased to meet you." He went to shake her hand as they had done when they'd met just a few hours before.

" _The Doctor?_ That isn't your _full_ name."

"Of course it isn't. Only one person knows that, and she's right here in this room. You won't get it out of her, though, she's very good with secrets." He turned to wink at his wife, a gesture which was returned with a seductive lip bite. "Aren't you, River?"

"Oh yes," she replied, "I'm _very_ good."

Elizabeth's heart pounded as the reality of the situation hit her. Anywhere in the universe, wherever and whenever she desired. It took her just a few milliseconds to contemplate the counter-reality. She could change the course of history with just one trip.

"One trip," she instructed, "and nothing more. And you have to promise me we'll be gone no longer than an hour."

"I'm a time traveller!" the Doctor replied, "we'll be back here before we even started if that's what you wish for. Now where was it?" He lept up each of the stairs and towards a large screen in the centre of the room. "Ancient Egypt? Edwardian Britain? Ever wanted to become a Renaissance woman?"

"1975," Lizzie said with a sudden confidence. "15th October 1975. That's where I want to go. House number seventy five, Uxbridge Avenue, London."

"Alright," he replied, nodding slowly, "1975 here we come."

There was a sudden jerk and several loud clashes as the TARDIS sprung into action. Elizabeth stumbled over her heels, holding her free arm over Ella's head as she clutched a metal bar around the other. River sighed and shook her head, pouting her glossed lips.

"I _told_ you to let me fly," she said. The played with one of the curls at her forehead and twisted it around her finger.

As they drew to a halt, the Doctor pushed at the brakes and turned to his wife. "Just for you, River," he explained, "I know you don't like the sound. Now," he moved over to the doors the pushed one open, "Elizabeth, care to have a look outside?"

A sudden chill filled the room. It was icy out there, the falling snowflakes scattering around his feet. She moved in his direction, placing Ella on the ground and holding onto her hand.

"Where are we?" she asked, peering outside to see nothing but the empty fields of countryside, clad in a vast white blanket of snow and ice. The trees were bare, with not a single leaf in site and speak of the once omnipotent presence of spring. The wind whispered in her ears and the cold was sharp against her reddening fingers. "It never snows in March," she said.

Her mind begun to race. She could feel herself falling back, her vision fading to black until the bleak landscape disappeared from view. She felt her head hit the ground and Ella's hand fall from her grasp.

_Why here?_


	5. Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very short for a reason! I hoped to create tension before I get going with the real, fleshed out plot which will hopefully depend far less on dialogue and more on plot. 
> 
> I promise I'll introduce more chapters from the perspective of River and the Doctor as the story continues.

 

  
_** Elizabeth ** _   


* * *

Stupid. Stupid to want to go back. Stupid to think she could change anything. Pathetic.

Elizabeth kept her eyes closed. She could feel the hot blood trickling over the eyelids. No, not blood. Something warm, moist - something more comforting than blood. But there _was_ blood. Trickling from forehead and sliding down onto her left cheek. She could feel it sticking to her skin and could sense the trail it left behind to mark its way. Stupid.

"What's wrong with Mommy?" Ella asked. _Ella_. Stupid to allow Ella to see something like this. Stupid to fall to the floor in front of her baby girl. Stupid.

"Mommy's going to be fine." That was River. Did she really trust the wife of a mad man in a blue box with her little girl? No. River was the last person in the world she trusted right now. She trusted the mad man more than she trusted his psychotic wife.

There were noises up there. Inside of her head, charges and impulses whirled and chimed. There were sparks, like electrical wires suddenly detached from their sources of power. Her mind's eye was hazy and confused - she felt suffocated, drowning, smothered. A hand pushed against her thumb.

"Elizabeth?" River asked, "are you there?" Her voice was soft. Elizabeth could sense the smudges of red gloss on her lips press against each other. River groaned. "Where is that man when you need him?"

She could feel the air outside. The door was open. She thought about running before she realised there was no escape. There was no getting off. There were no side roads to time travel.

She heard his footsteps as he came back inside. He bent down beside her and peered over.

"Keep your eyes forty five degrees to the left," River reminded, "you're married, Doctor."

Elizabeth became suddenly aware of the open buttons at the top of her shirt. They must have opened them to allow her to cool off after the fall.

The Doctor kept his line of vision firmly towards Lizzie's face, pointing his screwdriver at her.

She hated River's constant jokes. She hated the Doctor for convincing her any of this would be a good idea. She hated Mark for dying and leaving her alone with Ella. She hated herself for becoming so desperate she'd fallen into this trap.

"Doctor Corday," he said, "your eyes are twitching." Her removed the warm cloth from her face.

Elizabeth felt a rush of irritation quell in her throat. She parted her lids reluctantly, awakened to the image of the Doctor's face destructing her view.

"What are you doing?" she asked, the irritation obvious.

The Doctor crawled backwards on his knees, scurrying away. "Well _excuse me_ for having some concern for my companions," he exclaimed. "And besides, you were making the TARDIS feel uncomfortable _and_ creating a potential fire hazard.

He got up and brushed down his jacket, swinging on one of the railings and ducking under it instead of using the stairs.

Elizabeth took a slow blink. "Why are we here?" she asked, "how is any of this possible?"

"Oh, it isn't, sweetie," River replied. Elizabeth used her elbow to prop herself up from and ground and saw that she was holding Ella's hand. "But the Doctor doesn't believe in possibilities. Where's the fun in that?" She dropped her hold, helping Lizzie up. Ella stayed silent.

Elizabeth turned towards the door. It was freezing out there and Autumn had well and truly began. She could see the stone cottage in the background, the blurred figure running towards it with a basket in hand.

_Her mother's basket. The basket she'd pick flowers in each Sunday morning._

"No, no, no. River!" the Doctor whined as he reappeared above the steps.

River smirked as if aware of what he was going to say.

"You know I hate Sundays," he said, holding his head in his hands.


	6. Letterbox

 

  
_** The Doctor  ** _   


* * *

 

The Doctor stepped outside, closing the TARDIS doors behind him. He held Ella's hand at his side, swinging at a sharp forty five degree angle as she rushed towards her mother.

Elizabeth and River had walked on with thanks to his wife's impressive coaxing. It had been enough to convince Elizabeth to step outside into the world they'd landed in, her lip trembling and her eyes already reddened with the strength she'd offered up in order to keep back the tears.

She was a tough woman, the Doctor knew that. He could see it in her eyes. Their constant focus, the look of determination within them. She was a woman that wouldn't be pushed around. She stood her ground. It was something he found appealing - an aspect that had drew him to River herself - but, as a thousand year old time lord, he was quite aware of its downfalls. River had been fortunate on that part, but Elizabeth seemed to lack the initial curiosity and whimsical willingness to explore the world around her that his wife so treasured.

"Daddy," Ella shouted, tugging at the Doctor's arm. "I want to go home, Daddy. I want to go see Mommy and I want to go home. I'm hungry."

His stomach tossed, though out of guilt as opposed to grief or regret. He lowered his body closer to the ground until the two were level, keeping himself up on the tips of his toes. "Ella," he explained, "I'm not your daddy. I'm the Doctor. We're going on an adventure." He raised his voice and repeated the final word until Ella begun to smile.

"Adventure?" she asked. "What sort of adventure? Can Blue come too?"

The Doctor looked down to see Ella's stuffed toy stretched and pressed between her palm and the tips of her fingers. Dirt smudges patterned the stitches along the contours of its face. He chuckled to himself, realising she'd named the soft toy appropriately according to its hue. "The best sort of adventure," he replied, "the exciting sort, the daring sort. Yes, I'm sure Blue will provide us with a good source of companionship." He grinned and continued to lead her in the same direction her mother had wondered in.

The Doctor contemplated the vast amount of trust he'd put in his wife as he watched the pair walk on further into the distance. On every other adventure, he'd been able to sense the challenge ahead upon landing. This time was different. He laced together his middle and index fingers behind his back, praying it would be the exciting, daring adventure he'd just promised.

Why would the TARDIS land _here_? It was the right year - he'd checked a local newspaper he'd found in the small country shop that appeared only to sell printed tabloids, bread and milk for that  - yet they were more than six months out. And Elizabeth knew. She'd known they hadn't landed on the March date she'd requested as soon as she heard the first shrill, icy gust of wind as they'd opened those big blue doors.

"Sweetie!" River called from atop of a hill in front, waving her arm around in the air. His musings were quickly broken and brought to an end as she called again. "Sweetie, I think we have another case on our hands."

He half-run over to her, panting as he climbed further away from the grassy plain the TARDIS had landed in the middle of. Ella ran right by him, catching up to him and pulling him upwards as he made up final steps to the top of the mound of earth.

"Oh, sweetie," River said, "you can tell I've been away. Somebody hasn't been up to much running around lately. What have you been doing?"

"Thinking," the Doctor replied, breaking the word into syllable chunks through the panting. "A time traveller often needs to take time out to think. What have we got then?"

River looked to Elizabeth who readied herself to explain.

"I - I think I know why your - the - your machine," she trailed off.

"It's called the TARDIS. Can you remember what that stands for?" He asked.

She shook her head.

"Very well, please do continue."

"It's October. 21st October 1975. And that's the house I grew up in." She pointed over the other hills towards the same stone building visible when they'd landed. Its puffing chimney still spewed out white-grey smoke and its wooden door was still wide open. "I remember what happened on this day. I was eight," she explained, "I picked flowers in the morning. My mother helped me put them through my hair, and Dad - they were good together then, he and my mother - he cooked a warm breakfast and we sat and ate together. Then there was a knocking on the letterbox." She shook her head. "I don't see why any of this is relevant," she continued, "why would the TARDIS bring me _here_?"

The Doctor pressed his lips together and elaborated. "The TARDIS had a tendency to venture off to the wrong places."

"He's not too skilled when it comes to flying the poor thing," River muttered in Elizabeth ear.

"Luckily it always seems to take me to places where there's a little trouble going on, or a mystery to solve. Speaking of mysteries," he continued, "we can't solve yours until you tell us the full story."

"Yes," Elizabeth nodded, "The letterbox. There was a knock, so Dad went to open the door. He talked to somebody out there for a good amount of time - long enough for his breakfast to go so cold it was no longer edible - but when he came back he wasn't the same. He wasn't _Dad_ anymore. He was a changed man," she whispered. "That was the real reason he left her. Because something changed him that day. Something he didn't want to speak of - ever - something that taunted him at every second and drove him out of our lives."

The chimney continued to smoke. The October air was still below zero even as the morning progressed, so cold that Elizabeth's warm breaths produced a white steam as she released them. Ella shuffled over to her mother, her arms outstretched until she reached her legs and wrapped her arms around them. "Mommy," she whimpered, "I'm hungry."

Elizabeth went to scoop her up but the Doctor was there before her. He grabbed her under the arms and allowed her to let out a gleeful squeal as he lifted her above his head. "What did I say, Ella?" he asked, "I told you we're going on an adventure. Are you up for an adventure - you and Blue?"

She nodded her head and giggled. Elizabeth smiled.

"Good," said the Doctor, placing her back down on the ground. He leaned his head against his shoulder in the direction of the stone country house. "We've got a mystery to solve."

The walk took a closely-rounded forty minutes on his watch. All the while he pointed his sonic screwdriver in various directions, keeping a lookout for potential threats or enemies. It became difficult to see as a hazy fog fell through the morning air, obscuring their vision. River's red heels begun the slip and slide through the wet mud as they grew closer to the vegetable patches and greenhouses.

"It's a good job you married a woman cut out for these sorts of things," she remarked as they walked, "or else you might have ended up with a hefty load of divorce papers."

The sky had begun to clear and the clouds had disappeared by the time they stepped within a few dozen metres of the building. The bright sun beamed down upon their heads and illuminated each their faces: it made clear the Doctor's curious grin, River's lucrative smile, Ella's nebulous confusion and Elizabeth's mixture of worry and displeasure. They could smell the rising smoke, hot with ash and shards of wood. The sight of the vast expanse of nothingness around them gave way to a whirl of ideas and questions in the Doctor's mind. How had they arrived here? Why were they here? He checked his watch.

"Nine thirty," he recalled, "what time do you and your family settle down at the table, Elizabeth?"

"Around ten, if I remember correctly," she replied.

The Doctor grinned smugly. "Looks like the TARDIS landed just in time then, doesn't it? We have a few minutes to get ready, find a hiding spot and what not. What did you say about my ability to fly it properly again, dear?" He turned to River.

She turned her lower lip over and allowed the other to rest against it. "Nothing, honey," she said, assuming a state of confusion.

He laughed. "Oh, you _naughty girl_. Don't you know I hear everything you say? Sometimes it's best to keep your mouth closed and your ears open."

"And where did you steal that quote from? Not quite eloquent enough for a Shakespeare, so you can't have made another visit to the Globe. Sounds political, nineteenth century-like. James Buchanan, perhaps?"

"Wrong. Abraham Lincoln. One of his best quotes, yet it was never recorded. Probably because he didn't say it to a crowd of thousands."

River scoffed. "You had a private conversation with Abraham Lincoln? Is that supposed to sound impressive, sweetie?"

"The windows were most impressive. The oval office, that was were we met. All tall and shiny and see-through." He finished up, excited by his own reminiscence.

"Windows!" he chimed after a staggered moment of silence. " _Elizabeth - we need to find a window._ " He took a leap to the left of the gate and over the fence, inviting Elizabeth with him as he ran.

 

 

**That was the last time any of them were truly safe.**


	7. Hide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have much time to write this anymore so I'm so sorry chapters and so rushed :(:(:(

 

 

  
**_ River_**   


* * *

"Oh, move over!" River hissed, her back pressed against the planks of painted wood against the stone wall. "You're taking up all of the room!"

The Doctor scrunched up his nose and let out a quick breath of irritation. "I'm _trying_ to get a good look, dear. If it weren't for you and that _hair_ , I might actually be able to see something and figure out what's going on here!" His voice was only slightly raised - no more than a few decibels - but Elizabeth could sense his hypersensitivity and rawness.

She scrunched up her fingers against her palms until they formed fists, then threw them in the air. "The two of you, stop it," she sighed, "you're  arguing like an old married couple."

"He _is_ almost a thousand years old," River said, pointing towards the Doctor.

"And _you're_ not so _youthful_ yourself," he scoffed, his focus on her eyes. "Look at all of those - oh, never mind," he finished.

River brought her fingers up around her eyes and shielded them. "What do you mean? Look at what? _Am I getting wrinkles?_ Dear God, I am _not_ getting wrinkles." She looked at Elizabeth in tentative seriousness, pushing against the skin underneath her lids until it began to whiten with the pressure. "Do I have wrinkles?"

Elizabeth bit her cheek and groaned. "No, you don't have wrinkles," she said, shrugging her shoulders, "now can we all just be quiet and wait until he arrives?"

The Doctor pushed River to the back of the group and crouched on the ground, his body hovering just inches above the wet grass. "Any minute now," he whispered, keeping a close eye on his watch and watching the seconds tick by. His other eye stayed focused on the front door, with River keeping watch to the side of the house for any sign of movement.

_Some said the local lake had been enchanted_   
_Others said it must have been the weather_   
_The neighbors were trying to keep it quiet_   
_But I swear that I could hear the laughter_   
_So they jokingly nicknamed it the porridge_   
_Cause overnight that lake had turned as thick as butter_   
_But the local kids would still go swimming, drinking_   
_Saying that to them it doesn't matter_

There was a rustle of leaves and a howl of cold wind before the footsteps began. Long, hard steps against the sharp shrapnel of rock scattered along the cobblestone paths in the distance. With each step the sound became clearer, ringing through their ears like sleigh bells, only more sinister and echoing with the sin of a villain. Elizabeth kept her arm closely wrapped around Ella's waist, holding her close and cooing silent reminders to comfort her.

It was a whole two minutes on the Doctor's watch until River saw him, only a minute's walk away from the cottage. He was holding a briefcase in his left hand, his dirty fingernails pressed against the leather handle as it swung against his fingers. His skin was wrinkled, alligatored at the edges, his eyes watery and framed by two wispy dark eyebrows. A long and knotted grey beard hung from his chin, straggly and unwashed against his mottled skin. He did not look up towards the house. Instead, his eyes remained firmly fixated upon the cobblestones below him, as if listening to the metallic tune of the sturdy heels of his own shoes against the hard, shining pavement.

"Is that him?" River asked, holding her arms out to steady herself on the tips of her toes.

"I don't know," Elizabeth replied, "I didn't see him, not even out of the corner of my eye." She looked up through the window the group were crouched underneath of, narrowing her eyes as she watched herself settle down for breakfast. There she was, no more than twelve years old, her hair in tight braids and still in the pyjamas she'd slept in the night before.

_If you just hold in your breath until you come back up in full  
Hold in your breath until you've thought it through, you fool_

"Mommy?" Ella murmured, sucking on the fabric at the sleeve of her coat, "who's that?" She pointed in Elizabeth's father's direction. He was stood in the kitchen waiting for a thick slice of white bread to toast, a knife already in hand.

Elizabeth sank lower to the ground, realising how close to the window he was. Of course. She'd never even mentioned him to Ella. Ella had never known anybody but her grandma. "That's your grandpa," she whispered, looking Ella in the eye and smiling.

Ella wriggled from her grasp. "Grandpa," she half-shouted, "I want to see grandpa."

"Shush," Elizabeth cooed, grabbing a firmer hold around her waist and pulling her back. "Stay quiet, Ella."

River pushed herself up from the ground with her hands, wiping her muddy palms down the back of the Doctor's jacket.

"Hey!" He struggled to keep his voice below a whisper. "What was that for?"

River smirked. "For insulting my hair, _husband_." She moved away from the window in the direction of the front gate they had climbed over, hoping to stay out of the site of the family by ducking below the plants and neat lines of shrubbery they'd planted in their garden.

"Where are you going?" he hissed, calling to her. "Come back _right now_ , River Song. Or else you'll be in big trouble."

"In trouble with who?" she asked.

"With me."

"Ooh," she replied, "I like the sound of that. I might go a little further now you've encouraged me with that incentive." The took a dozen more steps in a northern direction before coming to a halt and bending her knees. "Psst," she called, looking back towards the group. "He's just around the corner, stay back."

There was a knock on the door. The doorbell chimed.

_The genius next door was bussing tables_   
_Wiping clean the ketchup bottle labels_   
_Getting high and mumbling German fables_   
_Didn't care as long as he was able_   
_To strip his clothes off by the dumpsters_   
_At night while everyone was sleeping_   
_And to wade midway into that porridge_   
_Just him and the secret he was keeping_

Elizabeth's father got up from the table, putting down his half-eaten toast and wiping his greasy fingers on a napkin. He smiled to Elizabeth, who returned the gesture and continued to chat to her mother.

The light bulb in the kitchen flickered.

The front door opened.

"Hello?" he asked, his tone questionable as he failed to recognise the man on the other side of the door as he opened it. "Is there something I can help you with?"

The pale man looked up, removing his dark shaded glasses from the bridge of his nose. His voice was hoarse and raspy; it echoed sin and broke through a cold silence. "Yes, Mr Corday. There is something you can help me with."

Mr Corday froze, his eyes caught in the same line of vision as the stranger's. "And what's that?" he asked, trying to keep a sense of comfort with a light tone of voice.

The stranger bit his lip, creasing the skin around it and puncturing through until he could taste the dripping red liquid with his tongue. He rolled back his deep black eyes and brought his briefcase to his chest. It opened with a click, the metal clips sliding upwards. "Where is it?" he questioned, supporting the case with his gloved hand. "What you promised, Mr Corday. Where are you hiding it?"

The door slammed shut. Mr Corday stood still, closing his eyes to inhibit the production of tears welling in the corners of them. He pressed his back against the wall and held his head in his hands, breathing heavily and uncontrollably, his face hot and purple with rage and fear.

"Dad," Elizabeth whispered, shaking her head. "What's wrong with him? What has he done?"

River could see and hear everything through the front window. She watched him as he dragged his hands across his face and tried to gather himself together. He was shaking, furiously and intractably. He rummaged through his trouser pockets and hustled a piece of thick white paper between his finger tips, tearing it to shreds.

The Doctor peered over to River, who stared back at him and shook her head.

"What do you mean you don't know?" he mouthed. He sighed and shook his head as she rolled her eyes.

Mr Corday sat back down at the table, grinding his teeth together in a nervous frenzy. Elizabeth watched as he bellowed at her mother, who cowered against the wall and put her arm around her daughter in the same way she held Ella. Then he turned to Elizabeth, stood up and smashed a plate against the kitchen counter tops and left the room.

_If you just hold in your breath until you come back up in full  
Hold in your breath until you've thought it through, you foolish child_

"Follow that man," the Doctor said, watching the stranger disappear further into the distance.


End file.
